


The Outsider's View of Palex

by momo_the_great



Category: Degrassi the Next Generation
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, F/F, Female Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Lesbian Character, Original Character(s), POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22690594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momo_the_great/pseuds/momo_the_great
Summary: Jordan Johnson is a new student to Degrassi Community School, moving from Florida to Canada and she's about to be inserted into a world she's never know. Jordan befriends and helps change and shape the lives of her classmates and even helps two unlikely people form a relationship no one saw coming, except her.The story takes place during season 4 and season 5 of Degrassi:The Next Generation
Relationships: Paige Michalchuk/Alex Nuñez
Kudos: 5





	1. Statistics

The body temperature of the average human being is 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit which is 37 degrees Celsius. I had to find a converter to figure out the temperature in Celsius because in America we use Fahrenheit, not Celsius. But in Canada they use Celsius, not Fahrenheit.

The average high temperature in Tampa, Florida in September is 87.5 degrees Fahrenheit, 30.8 degrees Celsius. The average low temperature is 77.4 degrees Fahrenheit, 25.2 degrees Celsius. The average high temperature in Toronto, Canada in September is 69.3 degrees Fahrenheit, 20.7 degrees Celsius. The average low is 55.8 degrees Fahrenheit, 13.2 degrees Celsius.

According to the 2000 U.S. Census the city of Tampa's demographics broke down as the following; 64.27% white, 26.03% black, 19.26% Hispanic or Latino Origin, and 2.16% Asian. In Canada's last census, conducted in 2001, it was found that blacks represented 2.2% of the total Canadian population. TWO POINT TWO PERCENT! Compared to the 2000 U.S. Census that found blacks made up 12.3% of America's total population.

I know what you're wondering, not because I'm a mind reader, but because of what I would be wondering if I were in your shoes. You're wondering, "Who the hell are you and why are you spitting random numbers at me?!"

Long story short? My name is Jordan Johnson. I'm a 16 year old African-AMERICAN girl that was just transplanted to Toronto, Canada and now I'm standing in front of my new school wearing a jacket because it's currently 57 degrees. 57 degrees in September!

I can't believe this. I just cannot believe this. I'm not sure which part I disbelieve more. The fact that I'm a new kid during my strongjunior/strong year of high school, or the fact that my parents moved me to a place where you actually wear jackets in September. JACKETS IN SEPTEMBER! WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?!

I turn my head left to right, back and forth, taking in my new surroundings. There's a giant banner hanging that says "emWelcome Back/em!" even though I'm sure it should actually read "emWelcome to Hell/em!" Students all around me are hugging and smiling at each other, asking one another how their summer break was. Is anyone asking me how my summer break was? No, because no one here gives a shit, because no one here knows me.

How is it that I've been here less than ten minutes and I already miss my old school? I miss home. I miss feeling the warmth of the Florida sun on my face, being blinded by the white sand of Clearwater Beach, diving into the warm blueish green waters of the Gulf of Mexico. I miss going to Busch Gardens with my friends, with the occasional trip to Universal or Disney World. I had to miss St. Pete Pride this year, an event my parents helped organized last year, the inaugural year! And as if things couldn't get any worse I also had to miss out on Gay Day at Disney World! My little baby lesbian heart broke when my parents told me that news. I almost told them to bite me when they suggested we go to Toronto Pride. Almost.

I know how I sound right now, no need for you to tell me. But I can't help it. I miss my old life. I miss my beautiful home in beautiful Tampa, Florida. I miss my family, my friends. I miss the things that I could do there. For example, can you go to the beach in Toronto in the middle of January? Nope! You sure as hell can't. But you can go to the beach year fucking round in Florida. Year…fucking…round.

_Buzz_

I pull my vibrating phone out of my pocket.

_Where are you?_

I should have known the text would be from my mother. Who else would be texting me right now?

I take a deep breath and being walking up the steps of my new school, Degrassi Community School? What is a community school exactly? Don't all public schools serve the community? Isn't that kind of the point of a public school? I have to admit though, there are some very good looking girls here.

_BAM!_

"Ugh," I groan in pain. "Fuck me with a stick."

That's what I get for looking at girls and not where I was going. My father always tells me that I either need to walk or look at pretty girls, not do both. And now I'm on my ass, on the ground in pain.

"Watch where you're going next time," an angry voice says.

I look up to see who this anger belongs to. Maybe she's angry because of the ugly ass green hoodie she's wearing. I'm sorry, that was very rude of me. Bad Jordan.

She's still looking down at me with a scowl look on her face. If I was a betting woman I'd bet, based off of her skin tone, that she may be of Latina descent. Dark eyes, dark hair, slim figure, she's wearing sunglasses on top of her head and headphones around her neck. She'd be cute if she didn't look like she wanted to kill me right now. Wait, how long have I been on the ground?

I quickly stand up and brush myself off. She is STILL leering at me, this must be some sort of record.

"I think this is actually a lesson for both of us," I tell her. "That we should both pay attention when walking. I mean, I bumped into you, you bumped into me."

She scoffs. "I didn't bump into you."

"I mean… it takes two to bump."

I immediately regret saying that. That somehow came out sounding sexual and now I would like to go back to my mother's car and hide.

"Do you think you're funny or something?" the girl asks angrily.

"Yes?" I say, sounding unsure.

She steps up to me and now our faces are almost touching. Is this a Canadian thing or does this girl just not believe in personal space, or boundaries?

"Next time you get in my way Chuckles," she starts. "Don't."

The girl shoulder checks me as she continues her journey down the stairs. Damn, that really hurt. I rub the spot where she hit me and watch the girl as she takes some poor kid's lunch. What the hell? I thought Canadians were suppose to be nice…


	2. Wham Bam, Thank You Ma'am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Jordan to meet her fellow classmates of Degrassi Community School.

"Honey, everything is going to be fine."

"I'm gonna go ahead and disagree with you on that one."

"Of course you are. All you've been doing is disagreeing with me for the past seven months."

"Well mother, that's because everything you've said and done has been very disagreeable."

"Jordan, that doesn't make any sense."

"Well it makes sense to me and right now that's all that matters."

My mother turns and looks at me seriously. "This could all be very good and productive for you," she says. "Canada is not so bad."

"Mom, it is 57 degrees outside right now," I say in a serious tone. "Fifty-seven and sure that might just be the low today but by October 50s will be the average high. The average HIGH. How is my chocolate body suppose to adapt to that coldness mother? You know I have very thin blood."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh boy, here we go about your thin blood again."

"Ha ha Mom," I say sarcastically. "Fine let's forget about the weather. What about the fact you took me away from my home, my friends, my school, everything I know and love."

"Jordan, you're only 16. There's so much of this world for you to discover. Also you do have family here. You get to spend more time with your cousin now.

"What?!" I exclaim in a hushed whisper. "You mean Triple C?"

"Jordan, don't call her that," she says sternly.

"Oh I'm sorry. Would you rather me use her full title? Crazy Cousin Cindy."

Mom sighs. "Jordan, that's really not any better. You shouldn't be calling your cousin crazy."

"If the shoe fits. Mom, do you remember how she "came out"? Uncle Nic and Aunt Sally literally walked in on her making out with a girl and guy at the same time then she yelled "I'm bi!""

"Well…" my mother starts. "That perhaps wasn't the best approach to coming out. But everyone gets to do it their own way. And just because Cindy took that route doesn't make her crazy."

"Oh really?" I ask. "Ok, well let's not forget about the time she dumped a bucket of pads and tampons on her teacher's desk because he didn't let her use the restroom. She's fucking insane!"  
Ow! I cover the ear my mom just flicked. That hurt like a bitch.

"Jordan, it's bad enough you curse at home," she says. "Let's not make it a thing in public."

I let out a sad sigh. Mom's eyes soften as she runs her hand through my hair in a loving manner. Maybe, just maybe, I'll forgive her for the ear flick.

"Sweetie, I know that this move has not been the easiest and I know that this place is a little different than what you're use to."

I scoff. "A little different?" I ask sarcastically.

"But I know you and you will adjust."

"Because I'm a Johnson," I finish. "That's what dad would say."

"That and because you're my daughter."

My mom kisses my forehead as two hot girls walk into the office. I groan in despair and from embarrassment. Of course I'd be receiving a kiss on my forehead from my mother as soon as two hot girls walk by. Obviously God hates me and is punishing me for the sins I've committed. Granted, I don't think being gay is a sin. And having pre-martial sex is DEFINITELY not a sin. It's called sampling what's out there before committing to one flavor of gelato that you might not like because you didn't try it first.

A middle-aged white man wearing a grey suit and glasses that look about decade old approaches us. I'm guessing he's the principal. I'm placing this guess not by what he's wearing but by the wrinkles he's currently sporting on his face. Something tells me those wrinkles have seen some things in the past few hundred decades.

"Hello, you must be Mrs. Felicia Johnson," the guy says to my mom while holding out his hand for her to shake. "I'm Principal Dan Raditch."

Mom stands up and shakes Principal Raditch's hand. Something tells me it's probably a clammy hand. He just gives me that clammy hand guy vibe.

"It is very nice to meet you Principal Raditch," Mom says. She places her hands on my shoulders. "This is my daughter Jordan."

"Hello Jordan," Principal Raditch greets me while holding out his hand for me to shake.

Ugh, I was afraid of this. I put my hand out and Principal Raditch takes it into his and shakes. I'm trying to control my gag reflex right now but looks like I was right, clammy hand.

"Hello, nice to meet you," I lie.

Just because I'm upset and disgusted right now doesn't mean I can't act civil. If it's one thing southerners are good at it's acting civil, yet disgusted, at the same time. It's an art form really.

"Well I'd like to welcome you two to Degrassi," Principal Raditch says. "I think you'll find Degrassi to be diverse, challenging yet rewarding, and just a great school overall. I have a feeling that Degrassi will be the perfect fit for you."

You think Degrassi will be the perfect fit for me? Bro, you don't even know me. And if I have to be honest it was either Degrassi, some school called Lakehurst, or private school. I don't do private schools, kids there have whole 'nother level issues. And Lakehurst… well Lakehurst just didn't really seem like a place I would want to be late at night. Also, I heard someone try to burn it down last year. Burning down in a high school building isn't exactly on my bucket list of things to do.

Principal Raditch hands me a piece of paper. Oh this paper is my schedule. I start scanning the piece of paper to see what I have. First thing is homeroom with Archibald Simpson. Wait, is that a class or do I literally just go there for like 15 minutes and then bounce? Also, who the hell names their kid Archibald? English with Laura Kwan, Canadian History with Dom Perino, then lunch, physics with Daphne Hatzilakos, yeah I'm NEVER going to be able to pronounce that name. And finally, Advance Functions AP with Darryl Armstrong. Wait, finally? That's it?! There's only four classes on this schedule and only one of them is an AP course!

"Excuse me sir," I look at Principal Raditch. "There must be some sort of mistake. There's only four classes on this schedule, and only one of them is an Advanced Placement course. I need to take all the AP classes available if I want to get into FSU."

"Well Jordan, things work a little differently up here than they do in the states," he says. "As I explained to your parents over the summer."

I turn my head sharply to my Mom, looking at her with eyes of surprise.

"You knew about this?" I ask her.

"Well Jordan," she starts. "It seems that the schools up here work on a semester base, sort of like colleges back in the states. So, with the exception of your math class, you will only be in your other three classes for the semester and then you'll have brand new classes next semester! Think about how exciting that'll be. You always complain about how you get bored with a course."

If I could describe the look I'm giving my mother right now… I guess one would describe it as me looking at her as if she just grew five heads. Like, what the fuck did she just say to me?

"What?" I ask.

"As a transfer student Ms. Johnson there are certain classes you must take in order to earn your diploma," Principal Raditch says.

I turn my attention to Principal Raditch and try not to look like I want to strangle him. But I think I could. I think I could get my hands around that meaty neck of his and just squeeze.

"For example," he continues. "Canadian Geography and History are courses students usually take during grade nine and ten but obviously you would be taking them this year. And we also have a limited amount of AP courses. Luckily though since you tested so high in mathematics we were able to enroll you in the AP Advance Functions course, which is usually reserved for students in grade 12. Next year, when you're in grade 12, you'll be able to take Advance Placement Biology. And if you're worried about getting into the university of your choice, I can assure you that we have a wide variety of classes that would look good to any school."

I turn my head slowly back to my mom and narrow my eyes. I let out a loud breath through my nose so she knows that I'm not very happy right now.

"Jordan you didn't need to load up your schedule with AP courses anyway," Mom says. "You weren't going to have any time to study. Besides, you're still taking an AP math course."

Currently reminding myself that this woman standing in front of me right now is my mother. She is the woman that birthed me, fed me, clothed me, has provided me the life any kid would ever dream of. She is NOT the woman that has essentially ruined my life forever. No no no, she is my mother. She loves me and I love her. BUT OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK!

Mom looks down at her watch and then back at my apologetically. "I'm sorry honey but I have to go," she says.

NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! Don't leave me! Please don't leave me here! I don't want to be here. UGH!

"But I love you," she continues. "And I know you will have a fantastic first day. I'll pick you up at 3:15."

She kisses me on the forehead, like that's going to make everything all better. I'm not five anymore. A kiss on the forehead isn't going to cure my anxiety and despair. Good God, I could be a character in a Shakespeare play right now.

"Principal Raditch, it was a pleasure meeting you," Mom says with a smile on her face and shakes his hand.

"Likewise Mrs. Johnson," he says. "First school night is in three weeks. Hopefully we will see you there."

"Of course. Good-bye."

I watch her walk out of the office and leave me behind in this weird foreign place. I suddenly feel an emptiness in my chest that I did not feel before. Is this what true loneliness feels like?

I turn back around. Jesus in heaven! Raditch is smiling at me like a true creeper. What if he's not actually the principal? What if this is all actually a ploy and he plans on kidnapping me and selling me into slavery? I mean… it could happen. In broad daylight. In an office that has a ton of people in it right now…

"Written on the top of your schedule is your locker number and the combination," he says. "You better hurry; homeroom starts in aboot five minutes."

Hehehe. I'm suppressing a laugh right now. Even though I've been here for about two and a half months hearing the people around here pronouncing it "aboot" still makes me laugh. I stifle the laughter and look at Principal Raditch.

"Thank you Principal Raditch," I say. "I will find my locker quickly and get to class before the bell rings. You have a good day."

"You too Jordan," he says. "I'm sure you will find Degrassi a place where you can succeed."

I just smile and nod my head, mostly to keep myself from rolling my eyes. I turn on my heels and walk out of the office. I will find Degrassi a place where I can succeed? It's like he was trying to sell me a used car or something. I look down at my schedule. Alright, I have locker 32. This should be no problem finding it, right?

Walking down the hallway I see more of what I miss. Friends greeting each other, excited for a new year, making plans, promising one another this will be the best year ever. I should be doing that right now with MY friends back in Tampa.

I walk by a locker that's fully decorated. Wow, must be that dude's birthday. Mostly because the locker says "Happy B-day Craig!" I know, I know. I could be a damn detective. Alright, 36, 35, 34, I'm getting closer and closer. Oh great, two boys are standing right in front of my locker.

"Excuse me guys," I say.

The light skinned black guy moves over so I can get to my locker. I shall dub him Red Jacket, because he's wearing a red jacket.

"Think Paige will be mad if I put up a picture of Mandy Moore?" the white curly haired boy asks the Red Jacket.

I shall dub this dude Curly. Because… well you get it.

"I saw her," Red Jacket says. "In L.A. when that scout who liked me took the whole camp to see a Lakers game. Are you listening?"

Scout? Lakers? My ears perk up. I like the Lakers. Memories of my father taking me to a Lakers game every season flash across my mind. Even though my father is a Florida native he's always been a fan of the Los Angeles Lakers, no Magic or Heat for that guy. I internally sigh, I guess the next time I'll see the Lakers is when they play the Raptors. Ugh.

"Maybe Hilary Duff will be better," Curly says, continuing answering what I'm assuming is a stupid question.

"Why?" Red Jacket asks, sounding confused. "Why would that be better?"

"She looks more like Paige."

"I'd rather look more like Lindsay Lohan," a random girl says.

I'm gonna go ahead and guess that this random blonde is Paige. I'm also going to go ahead and guess that she likes pink because she's wearing a lot of it. Pink jacket, pink shirt underneath the pink jacket, pink pearls… I didn't even know they made pink pearls, or why in God's name anyone would want to wear them. And, is that a pink bag? Is she carrying both a bag and a small purse?! And why would this girl want to look like Lindsay Lohan? She'd have to dye her blonde hair red, and something tells me this girl is not about to give up the blonde. This girl has only uttered one sentence and already I am perplexed by her. I'm thinking way too much into this now, and I'm not even part of the conversation.

"Aren't you at court today?" Red Jacket asks.

Oh really now? Did this girl commit some sort of crime? She definitely looks like someone who probably has a shoplifting problem but for the most part has been getting away with it because daddy is rich and has connections.

"I always wanted an assistant to handle my calendar," Paige says sarcastically and kind of bitchy. "Thanks Jim. But it was supposed to be tomorrow."

Alright, so far I've only been in this building for about 20 minutes and already I've learned that blonde girl's name is Paige, she may or may not have committed a crime, the black boy wearing the red jacket actually has a name and apparently it is Jim, and he may or may not be Paige's assistant, modern day slavery if you ask me. And Curly likes to make weird faces. This Canadian school is turning out to be quite weird. Are all the schools in this area like this or did my parents just somehow pick the weird one?

"Wait, supposed?" Curly asks, confused.

"I'm not going," Paige says, while still looking down at the magazine. "Don't really see the point."

"I do!" he yells angrily.

"Ok then you can go," Paige sounds a bit upset and gives the magazine back to the white kid.

I feel the need to leave this situation now. Tension is starting to build up and I really don't like anticipated confrontation.

"Y-you're real- you're not going?" Curly asks in disbelief.

Jim is looking down, biting his lip. It looks like he's trying to keep his thoughts and opinions to himself, trying not to insert himself into this tense situation.

"Nope," Paige answers Curly's question simply.

Curly is now shaking his head. This can't be good. He throws the magazine into his locker. See, I told you.

"I can't do this anymore," he says and slams his locker shut.

"Do what anymore?" Paige asks with her arms crossed and attitude in her voice.

I think I may know where this is going and I now have a weird feeling this is about to get more interesting. Jim is still just standing here, saying nothing. Smart move Jim, smart move.

"This," Curly says, throwing his arms open. "Us!" And now he's walking away.

Paige is looking after him in disbelief. I'm sorry but I CANNOT, for a second, believe that this is the first time this has ever happened. They totally look like that couple that breaks up every couple of months and then gets back together.

"What was that?" silent Jim finally speaks up.

"Did he just dump me?" Paige asks.

"Psh yeah, and on the first day of school."

Oh shit, was that my voice? Did I just say a thought out loud? Jim and Paige are both looking at me now. The look at Jim's face says he's wondering who the hell I am. The look on Paige's face… well her's in a little more unreadable. But if I had to guess, I think she wants to cut me? Or maybe possible shank me? I mean, this school doesn't have metal detectors so she could be packing anything.

"Umm…" I trail. I put my hand up in greeting. "I'm Jordan, and I'm new. So how about we chalk that comment up to me being the nervous new girl?" Cue the awkward smile.

Paige rolls her eyes and walks away angrily. Not sure if that anger is because of me or because of her now ex-boyfriend. I look back at Jim and he's still looking at me. He smiles and now he's holding out his hand for me to shake.

"Hi, I'm Jimmy," he says. "Jimmy Brooks."

I take Jimmy's hand and shake it. "I'm Jordan Johnson."

"Nice to meet you Jordan. So when you say new, do you mean grade seven or just new to Degrassi?"

The hell this dude just say? Grade seven? Do I fucking look like I'm twelve years old? Breathe Jordan, just breathe. I'm sure he in no way meant to say you look like a twelve year old who needs her mom to hold her hand.

"I mean new as in new to the country. I'm a junior. For some reason my parents figured now would be the perfect time to move to Canada."

"Ooh," Jimmy says. "That's harsh. Where are you originally from?"

"Florida."

"Well here's some advice; if you haven't already, buy a coat."

"Because unlike Florida you guys get snow? Like all the time?"

Jimmy makes a face and shakes his head. "Nah, because it's the first day of school and you've already pissed off Paige Michaelchuk. Get ready for a blizzard."

"Oh…Thanks."

"No problem Jordan. Welcome to Degrassi."

Jimmy starts walking away, as I just stand in my spot.; not really sure how to handle what he just said. I haven't had to deal with mean girls since middle school. Well I had mean girls at my old high school but I didn't let them bother me. But here…. Here I have no allies and apparently I have already pissed off the Queen Bitch. I just wanna go home…

_Ring!_

Oh fuck me with a stick! "Ugh!" I groan and throw my head back in frustration. I start power walking to where I THINK my homeroom might be. This school map doesn't do shit for me!

Ow! Fuck, fuck fuck. This is the second time I've ran into someone, the second time I find myself on the ground. There's paper all over the ground and no one is stopping to help me and the poor other victim on the ground. She has her back turned to me as she starts picking up the items she dropped.

"I'm so sorry," I tell her. "This is totally my fault. I really need to pay attention to where I'm going.

"It's ok," the girl says. "It happens to the best of us."

She stands up and brushes herself off. I pick up a red notebook with the name Bethany Perez written at the top. I'm going to go ahead and assume she's Bethany Perez.

"I'm pretty sure this is yours," I tell her, holding out the notebook.

Bethany turns around, in what seems like slow motion. I think I'm looking into the prettiest eyes I've ever seen in my life. Has time stopped? Because I'm pretty sure time has stopped and this girl is the cause of it. I bet if I looked up 'beautiful' right now in the dictionary I'd find a picture of her. I don't know what's with me today I'm just bumping into girl after girl. But this girl…this girl with her striking greenish-brown eyes with hints of gold and brilliantly beautiful smile. She could ask me to rob a bank right now and I'd ask which one.

She takes her notebook from me. "Thanks," she says. "Well better get going. First day of school and we're already late for homeroom."

Is my mouth open? Am I saying words or do I just have my mouth open like a dummy? All I can do is nod my head. I've lost all functionality to form words.

Bethany tilts her head and looks at me confused. "Umm… Are you ok?" she asks.

I shake my head, getting out of the trance she put me in. Be cool Johnson, be cool. She's just a pretty girl. You've met loads of pretty girls before. You've got this.

"Uh yeah," I answer. I clear my throat. "I just had… an episode?"

"Right…" she says slowly. "Ok, well I'm gonna get to homeroom now."

"Me too," I say in fake confidence.

Bethany starts walking away.

"Hey wait!" I shout.

She turns around and raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?" she asks.

"Umm can you tell me how to get to Mr. Simpson's class?"

"Take this next left down the hallway and it should be the first door on your right."

"Thanks," I say and nervously smile.

"No problem," Bethany says.

She turns around and starts walking in the direction to wherever her homeroom must be. Oh how I wish that homeroom was with me. Do you hear me? Already I'm pining after a girl I don't even know. But, I do know her name. That must count for something right?

I continue my journey to homeroom, though at this point it must almost be over. Let's see Room 113. I open the door and immediately all eyes are me. Well most eyes are on me, some eyes are still staring at the computer screen in front of them. Good news, my homeroom is in the computer lab! Gotta take the small wins where I can get them.

"Oh hello there!" a balding strawberry blonde man with a huge smile greets me.

"Hi, is this Mr. Simpson's class?" I ask. "I think this is my homeroom."

"Ah yes! You must be our new student!"

"Yep…"

Mr. Simpson waves me over. Oh God I hope he's not going to do what I think he's going to do. I walk over and stand by his desk.

"Every this is our new student Jordan," Mr. Simpson introduces me.

The class is looking at me with a mixture of intrigue, confusion, and plain old don't give a fuck. I have to say that the feeling is mutual on the not giving a fuck part.

"Why don't you tell the class a little aboot yourself?" Mr. Simpson says.

I suppress the laughter that was trying to escape. I'm sorry but how do these people not realize that their pronunciation of the word is hilarious?

"Umm I'm Jordan Johnson," I tell the class. "I just moved here from Florida. I play the guitar, I like basketball, and I believe the Illuminati is real. I'm kidding about the Illuminati part."

Cue the crickets… Oh this is going to be harder than I thought. Can someone call my mom and tell her to come pick me up please?

Mr. Simpson claps his hands. "Well then Jordan welcome to your homeroom. I believe there is an empty seat near the back by Alex. Alex raise your hand please."

I see a hand lazily and reluctantly go up into the air. I start walking to where the mystery hand is. Oh fuck… I stop dead in my tracks. It's the girl I ran into this morning on the steps. I mean we ran into each other. Ya know what, the details are not what's important right now. The fact is I now have to sit by a girl who already doesn't like me, in the back, the back where no one can hear me scream.

"Jordan, is there a problem?" Mr. Simpson asks.

Alex looks at me and cocks one of her eyebrows. "Yeah," she starts. "Is there a problem Jordan?"

I just gulped so loud I think folks back in Florida heard it. I turn to look at Mr. Simpson. My eyes quietly screaming for him to come save me.

"No" I squeak. "Everything is fine."

I place my book bag down on the table and sit down in my seat.

"So is everyone in Florida blind or just you?" Alex asks, her voice dripping in attitude.

"Your insult would have been so much better if it hadn't been for the fact that I literally just saw your hand go up, hence the reason I found this seat that I am now sitting in," I tell her. Not sure where this confidence came from but let's see if it stays here. "Plus we ran into each other this morning. It was a mutual running into."

Alex turns her head sharply and looks at me. "No new girl, YOU bumped into ME."

"Um are you deaf?" I ask her. "Did you not just hear me tell the whole class my name like five seconds ago? I don't remember saying that my name is New Girl. I'm pretty sure I said it's Jordan. So how about when you address me you say my actual name?"

Alex shakes her head. "Wow you are so clearly new," she says.

"Why? Because I just said that about ten seconds ago and before that about ninety seconds ago?"

Alex's face changes. She leans closer to me as if she wants to tell me a secret. Her proximity to me says secret, her face says she wants to punch me.

"No," she says threateningly. "Because the last girl who decided she was tough enough to stand up to me received a bloody nose and a black eye."

"Well that doesn't sound fun," I say in a matter of fact tone.

I know violence is never the answer. I learned that from all the after school specials I watched growing up as a kid, and my parents constantly remind me. But if this girl thinks I'm going to sit here and allow her to threaten me. Well then she must not know that the sky is blue. Fuck man, even in my mind things can't make sense.

"Listen Alex," I start. "I don't know you and you don't know me. But what I do know is that you threatening me will not end well for either of us, well really it won't end well for YOU. I have a 2nd Dan Black Belt in Taekwondo."

"Yeah right," she scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"I've been practicing Taekwondo since I was about eight. Parents figured it'd be a good way for me to channel all my anger and energy. Taught me discipline and control. And while I'm not allowed to START fights, I am allowed to defend myself. So believe me when I say that threatening me, is not a good thing to do."

Alex's face becomes unreadable. I can see the wheels in her mind turning, trying to figure out if I'm being serious or not. And in case you're wondering, I am. I'm not lying about the Taekwondo. It's a great work out and a great away to let off some steam.

"Miss Nuñez and Miss Johnson, is there something more interesting going on back there that I should know aboot?" Mr. Simpson asks.

I turn my head and smile innocently at him. "No sir," I tell him. "Everything is just fine. Alex here was just giving me some tips about Degrassi."

Mr. Simpson makes a face, one that says he's both confused and doesn't believe me at the same time. I'm assuming Alex must not be part of Degrassi's welcome wagon.

"Um, ok then" he says. "Well how about you two pay attention to what's going on up here."

"Yes sir," I respond.

I give Mr. Simpson my full attention and stop thinking about Alex Nuñez.

**After Homeroom:**  
Are we suppose to learn anything in homeroom? Like what is the point of homeroom exactly? Because all Mr. Simpson did was talk about new school rules and go over how important grade eleven is for our future and what not. Also! Why do they call it grade eleven? Why not junior year, or the eleventh grade, like normal people? And they say university instead of college. I know these are small things but it's the small things that are irking me.

What the-! Someone grabs me by the shirt and slams me against the lockers.

"Ow!" I yell. Hello concussion, my old friend.

Alex has me against the lockers, and not in a sexy way either. I love that no one is stopping to help or anything, they're all just still walking, minding their own business. It's as if we're invisible or something.

"Listen, I don't know who the fuck you think you are but know that I don't take threats lightly," Alex says.

What? She threatened me! Did she miss that part?! Nope fuck this. Fuck the Johnson family rule. I bring my arms around, slamming them on Alex's so she loses her grip of my shoulders. I spin around and place my right forearm against her collar bone. Now SHE'S the one pinned to the lockers. Confusion and surprise takes over Alex's face.

"Did you think I was fucking with you earlier about the Taekwondo?" I ask her. "Listen, I don't know what the hell your problem is, nor do I know why you seem to think I'll be your new target for bullying. I will NOT be bullied. I will NOT have you threatening me. And most importantly I will NOT allow you to make me feel unsafe in a school I don't even want to be in in the first place. I'll say this one last time." I put my face closer to hers, we're only maybe an inch away from each other now. "Leave me alone."

"A-are you two gonna kiss?"

I turn my head and some random boy with glasses is looking at us with excitement on his face. I squint my eyes at him.

"No," I tell him and now he looks defeated. I turn back and look at Alex. "She's not my type."

Alex pushes me off and angrily walks away. I wonder which part pisses her off; me pinning her to the lockers or me telling her she's not my type. I shrug my shoulders and pick up my fallen book bag. I get my class schedule and school map out of the bag.

I start making my way to my next class. English with Ms. Kwan room 126, easy peasy. I got my map, how hard could this-

_BAM!_

Is there a record for the number of times one can end up on the ground for running into someone within a couple of hours? I, for the third time, find myself on the ground again. I look up at the poor soul I ran into this time.

Oh hey… It's the girl from before. Bethany? Yeah I think that's her name. Maybe this is fate? The girl looks at me and shakes her head but I think I see a hint of a smile.

"We should really stop meeting like this," she jokes.

"I agree," I tell her.

I get up off the ground and brush myself off. I offer my hand to Bethany and help her up. She's standing up now but I'm still holding her hand. She clears her throat. I quickly take back my hand and I'm pretty sure I'm blushing a little bit.

"Sorry," I tell her. "Sometimes I zone out."

"Would that explain you running into me twice?" she asks. "Or do you just like running into people?"

"Well running into people does add a bit of spice to a usually mundane day. Plus it doesn't hurt when the person I keep running into is a cute girl."

That's right Jordan, lay down the Johnson charm. I don't even know if this girl is into girls, not like that's ever stopped me from flirting before. But she might be considering she's smiling and I think maybe blushing just a bit.

Bethany raises an eyebrow. "So you're running into me on purpose?" she asks. Her tone sort of makes it sound like she's challenging me.

"If I say yes will that make me seem a weird or charming?" I ask her, trying to sound flirty, in a non-creepy way.

"Babe!"

Babe? What? A guy runs to Bethany and puts his arm around her shoulders. She smiles at him while he kisses her on the cheek. Who the fuck is this dude?! Like what the fuck man?!

"Hey," Bethany greets him.

Homeboy is looking at me now. Man, fuck this dude. Fuck him and his average short brown hair, and his average looking brown eyes, and average height and slim built. Also he can go fuck himself with a stick for wearing a popped collar polo shirt, khaki cargo shorts, and sporting frosted tips. The 90s called, they said to throw yourself in a dumpster bro. Ugh, he looks like your stereotypical Floridian white boy.

"Who's this?" he asks Bethany.

Now she's looking at me because she doesn't know my name. This would be awkward for me if I didn't already want to throw myself off the CN Tower.

"I'm Jordan," I tell him.

"Oh hey," he happily greets me. "I'm Will, Bethany's boyfriend."

Will. William. Billy. Ew. An average name, for an average guy. Lovely, just lovely.

"Well I should probably get to class," I tell the couple. "Nice meeting you."

I walk away before anything else can be said. Ugh, I don't like him. I know I just met him but I don't like him. They say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover but that is a book I do NOT want to read. The only thing he has going for him is that he wasn't wearing sandals or flip flops. Now THAT would have definitely made him a typical Florida man.

I enter room 126, looks like I got here a bit early. Plenty of empty seats to choose from. I see the teacher up front writing on the board, Welcome to Grade 11 English. I walk over to her, better introduce myself.

"Hi," I greet her. "Are you Ms. Kwan?"

She smiles at me. "Yes I am," she answers. "You must be our new student from the States."

Is there some file about me that all my teachers have seen? Does this file just have my old transcripts from my old schools, along with an old school photo of me? Actually… now that I think about it, that makes sense. That actually sounds perfectly normal.

"Yep, that's me!" I say in fake enthusiasm. "Jordan Johnson."

"Welcome Jordan, you can pick any seat."

"Thanks."

I choose the middle seat in the second to last row of the class. Close enough to pay attention in class, but far away enough so Ms. Kwan isn't always focusing on me and my gorgeous face.

The classroom slowly starts to fill as students enter the room. The girl from earlier, that one I accidentally insulted, I think her name is Paige. Paige walks into the classroom with another girl in tow. They sit in the row behind me. I secretly hope and pray Paige doesn't recognize me.

"Hey you," she says.

Great, awesome, this is fine. I slowly turn around in my seat and smile.

"Hellooooooo," I quietly sing.

"You're the girl from earlier," she says.

"Possibly? Or maybe I just look like the girl from earlier," I say. Jedi mind trick.

Paige shakes her head. "No you're definitely her."

Ok, so Jedi mind trick fail. In my defense, I'm not a Jedi master. Just a slightly awkward teenager.

I nod my head. "Yeah, listen I'm really sorry about what I said earlier. I have this condition where everything I think just automatically comes out of my mouth. My parents and I have been looking for a cure for it for about ten years now but it seems that I have been cursed with this disease for the rest of my life."

"Is rambling also part of the disease?" Paige asks.

"No, the rambling comes from me being really nervous, and slightly awkward. And now I'll shut up."

Paige is looking at me right now as if she's scanning me, studying me. I'm not too sure how I feel about this. I look over at Paige's friend and it looks like she's waiting for Paige to make a decision about me. Of course, every Queen Bee needs a faithful sidekick who doesn't make decisions for themselves. Oh wow, that was slightly mean.

"Hmm," Paige says.

And that's it. Nothing else comes out of her mouth but Paige's friend nods her head as if she agrees. Agrees with or about what? Are they just both mind readers and read each other's thoughts? Is this school full of people with telekinesis? Wait… telekinesis is moving things with your mind, not mind reading.

I turn back around, deciding not to try to figure out Paige and her friend. I look back at the door while more and more people file into the classroom. These are going to be my classmates for the semester and I don't know a single one of them. If I was back at home I'd probably know ninety-nine percent of the class.

Oh shit! It's her! Bethany walks into the room and, is there a spotlight in here? She sees me and smiles. I mean, I think that's for me? I quickly look around me. Yeah yeah that smile is definitely for me. She sits down in the once empty seat that is beside me.

"Hey," Bethany greets me.

"Hi," I say nervously.

She turns around in her seat to Paige and Paige's friend.

"Hi Paige, hi Hazel," she greets them.

Hazel, that's Paige's friend's name. Hmm, fitting. Her skin tone is kinda hazeley. That's not a real word. But yeah, hazel is a type of brown right? I should have paid more attention in art class.

"You two look fabulous, as always," Bethany continues.

"Thanks Beth," Paige says.

Ok, so she goes by "Beth" for short. Makes sense, make sense. Taking mental notes.

"How was your summer?" Paige asks Bethany.

"It was great. This year was the family trip to Mexico to visit my dad's side of the family. How was your summer?"

Paige shrugs her shoulders. "Nothing too exciting. The usual, hanging by the pool, family trip to Vancouver. Helped Dylan move into his dorm."

"Man, you guys got to travel this summer," Hazel whines. "All I got was a summer job babysitting two brats."

"Well I moved to a completely different country where they use the metric system, so now I have no idea how to measure anything anymore."

Oh fuck. Did I just say that out loud? I could have sworn I thought it. I look up and the girls are just looking back at me. Yep, I did say that out loud. That's it. Just end today. Call it a wrap on this chapter of my life. I'm done, it's over.

"So I definitely thought I said that in my head, not out loud," I tell them.

"Where are you from?" Bethany asks me.

"I'm actually from Tampa, Florida," I answer. "I've spent pretty much my whole life there until two months ago."

"That must suck," Hazel says. "Why'd you move?"

"The insurance company my dad works for wanted to expand their business, make it go "international" and they figured my dad was the best man to get the job done."

I air quote the word "international" because does it really count if it's just Canada? I mean it's not like they opened an office in England, or China, or Japan. Not that ANY of those places would have been much better. Although, I do have a soft spot for British accents.

"Anyway," I continue. "His company decided he was the best man for the expansion and made him the president of the Toronto branch. My parents also stated this would be the perfect time to "broaden" my horizons."

"Wow, that majorly blows hon," Paige says.

Does this girl call everyone hon? It's enduring yet, also slightly disturbing.

"Yeah it sucks enough moving to a different place, let alone an entirely new country," I tell them. "I just miss all my family and friends back in Florida."

I feel a touch on my arm and a shiver runs down my spine. I look down and see Bethany's hand on my arm. I look up and she's looking at me with sad eyes but a kind smile on her face.

"Well like your parents said, maybe this will be a good move for you," she says.

"Hello ladies!" a boy greets us.

Um, wow, ok. Thus guy is definitely wearing one hell of an outfit. A white button down shirt with a slim black tie, and a navy blue jacket over the shirt along with rolled up jeans. Like his jeans are SUPER rolled up, makes me think maybe they're maybe about six inches too long for him. And I'm not sure if he's wearing glasses, women's sunglasses, or just goggles on his face. I have a feeling this will haunt me for the rest of the day if I don't ask.

"I like your outfit," I tell him.

Don't get me wrong, I know my critique of his outfit just now makes it sound like I don't like it, but I truly do. This isn't me pulling some Regina George Mean Girls mind trick. I'm a HUGE fan of ties especially when they're slim or skinny, they can really add to an outfit.

The boy smiles at me. "Thank you," he says excitedly. "I'm Marco."

"Jordan."

Marco sits on the other side of Paige. I can already tell that the three of them are close, probably the Three Amigos.

_RING!_

There's the sound that haunts me in my dreams when I sleep at night. Ms. Kwan moves to close the door. As soon as the door closes it reopens. Sigh. Of course SHE'S in this class.  
"Aw, Miss Nuñez, late for class on the very first day of school," Ms. Kwan says. "How about we NOT make this a habit this year, ok?"  
"Yes Ms. Kwan," Alex mutters as she shuffles into the classroom.

Alex takes the seat beside me, practically throwing her book bag on top of the table. Why? Why me? Of all the seats to choose from why did she pick the one next to me?

I hear Hazel groan behind me. "We would have class with HER this year," she mutters. "Why can't all the social rejects be in one class together and leave the rest of us alone?"

Alex turns around. "Why don't you say that louder so we can all hear you next time Hazel?" she asks sarcastically.

"Why don't you pipe down Alex," Paige asks, annoyed. "Just because you were late doesn't mean the rest of our educations should have to suffer."

"Oh, cause God forbid anything gets in the way of Princess Prissy's education!"

"Well at least I care aboot my education. But I guess if I were you I wouldn't care either since we all know where you're going to end up after high school." Paige starts laughing. "That's IF you even pass high school. You might be like the rest of your loser friends and just drop out."

"Paige," I hear Marco softly pleading. Sounds like he's trying to stop something before it begins.

"Well we all know what's going to happen to you after high school Princess," Alex says and looks at Paige. "Yeah sure, you'll graduate, remembering high school as the best years of your life. Then ten years later there you are, a hundred pounds heavier, married with five kids to some dick that doesn't even love you, probably cheating on you, all while telling the ladies at the country club how happy you are."

Well fuck, Alex sure did paint a picture with that insult.

"Hey guys," Bethany starts. "How about this year we just chill on the fighting? You don't have to be friends, but at least act civilized towards one another."

Paige rolls her eyes and crosses her arms while Alex turns back around in her seat. I smile at Beth, gotta appreciate a girl who at least attempts to keep the peace.

"Wow, that was a bit intense," I whisper.

"Yeah," Beth whispers back. "Those two don't exactly like one another if you didn't notice."

I chuckle softly at her joke and turn my attention back to the front of the classroom as Ms. Kwan starts to go over the syllabus with us.

**After Class:**  
First class of English 11 is officially over! Though I'm not even sure one could call that a class. Is it a class if all the teacher does is go over the syllabus, class expectations, and then tells you to free write in a journal for thirty minutes? Is that really a class? No less was taught people!

I start putting things in my book bag along with the rest of the class that's packing up their things. Paige, Hazel, and Marco are the first to leave.

"See ya later," Marco says. "It was nice meeting you Jordan."

"Nice meeting you too dude."

I like Marco, he seems nice. Plus it'd be nice to be friends with someone that's also part of the community. I mean, he's totally gay right? I was getting a gay vibe from him.

"Bye Jordan," Bethany says.

Oh please God, please tell me I'm not blushing right now. Smile you fool, SMILE!

"Bye Bethany," I barely get out.

"You can call me Beth, most people do."

"Cool… See ya later Beth."

She waves and walks out the room. No that wasn't walking, that was gliding. She just fucking glided out of this room. Oy vey.

I look around and somehow Alex and I are the only ones left in here. She's just starring at me.

"Why are you starring at me?" I ask her.

"I'm trying to figure you out," she answers.

"Well good luck with that. My therapist has been trying to figure me out for the past decade."

I grab my book bag and head out the room. I hear footsteps behind me and now Alex is by my side, walking in step with me.

"Are you planning on pushing me against the lockers again?" I ask her casually.

"Do I NEED to push you up against the lockers?"

I look at her and make a confused face. "In what universe would anyone ever NEED to push someone against the lockers Alex? What universe are you living in? That way I can make sure not to visit it."

Alex shrugs her shoulders and continues walking with me. Well if she's going to continue this she may as well help me.  
"Since you're being a creeper," I start. "Can you at least tell me where Mr. Perino's class is?"

"Nope," Alex says. "I'll actually show you."

I quirk an eyebrow. "Why?" I ask suspiciously.

"I'm actually heading there myself."

Ok now I'm even more confused. "Why?"

"I'm taking Canadian History this semester with Mr. Perino," she says in a matter of fact tone.

"But why?" I ask, still fucking confused. "I thought Canadian History was a freshman or sophomore class. I know why I'm taking it, I'm a transfer student. Why are YOU taking it?"

"Well I didn't exactly "apply" myself last year," she says, using air quotes.

"What?" I fake gasp. "You Alex Nuñez not apply yourself? Color me shock."

Now it's time for Alex to quirk her eyebrow and look at me confused. I laugh.

"Something tells me you're probably a fan of sarcasm," I tell her.

"Maybe," she says shortly. "I'm not sure about you New Girl."

"Well that makes two of us," I mutter.

"So are you friends with Paige or what?"

What a very random question for Alex to ask me. I guess I'm going to have to answer considering I'm following her lead to a classroom where I don't know of its location.

"I'm not friends with anyone Alex," I tell her. "I'm too new to be friends with anyone. Besides, what Paige said to you wasn't ok. Not that what you said was any better, though you painted quite a vivid picture. And for that, I applaud." I golf clap.

"What can I say, I'm quite the artist."

Alex steps in front of me and stops, causing me to also stop. I roll my eyes and sigh at her.

"What?" I groan. "What now?"

"You're either with her or you're not," Alex says.

I tilt my head. "You've slightly lost me," I tell her. "Like I feel like I'm in a car and was suppose to get off two exits ago but my GPS failed to tell me."

Alex rolls her eyes, looking annoyed. "Paige and her cronies think they run this school."

"If they do they're doing a bad job. This place needs a paint job."

"Stop joking around New Girl," Alex snaps. "Like I said, you're either with Paige or you're not. If you're not, then maybe we can be friends."

"Can't be friends if you don't learn my name," I sing, while wagging my finger at her.

Alex crosses her arms across her chest. Ooh, that's the game we're playing.

"Just say my name Alex," I tell her. "It's not going to kill you."

She narrows her eyes at me and clench her teeth. "Jordan," she says.

"There ya go!" I exclaim. "And to answer your question, I'm not with either one of you. You both seem like horrible people, just in different ways."

I turn my head and see the classroom number in front of us is 105. Oh, I actually made it to class!

"Lexie!" I hear a male voice call out.

I turn my head to the direction of the voice and see a white guy wearing a black hoodie and the same type of headphones as Alex's around his neck. Alex smiles at him and they share a kiss. Ew, lovely. The guy looks me up and down. Again, ew.

"Lexie, who's this chick?" the dude asks.

"This chick?" I ask back. "Is that how your parents raised you to talk to women? Gross."

"Oh, I see you have a bit of a mouth on you."

"I actually have a whole mouth on my face, rude ass," I say in a snarky tone. "Please move, I'm trying to get to class."

"Fun coincidence," he starts and smiles a disgusting creepy male smile. "I'm also going to this class."

"Jordan," Alex starts. "Meet my boyfriend, Jay. He's in history class with us."

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!


	3. You're History

Dear God, hi it’s me, Jordan. I know it’s been awhile. You and I had that disagreement a few years back and just drifted apart. I guess your number got deleted from my phone, sorry about that. I’m just reaching out to you because I have a question. ARE YOU FUCKING PUNISHING ME OR WHAT?!?

Jay is still smiling at me the way creepy men like to do to women. It’s very weird and gives me the urge to kick him in the balls.

“Well,” I start. “Isn’t this… I can’t find the right words to use at the moment.”

“Grand?” Jay asks.

“I mean, that’s A word.”

I walk past them into the classroom and grab a seat. They walk into the classroom and I see Mr. Perino become instantly annoyed as he rolls his eyes at the sight of them.

“Maybe this semester you two could actually learn and pass the class,” he says.

Jay raises his hands up as if he’s being arrested by the cops. Ya know what, something tells me that Jay has definitely has some run-ins with the law. He just seems like that type of guy.

“I make no promises Mr. P,” Jay says.

Mr. Perino points at them. “Don’t even think about sitting beside each other,” he says sternly.

Alex gives Mr. Perino a bitchy smile and, now she’s flicking him off as soon as he turned his back. This should be a fun class.

The two are walking down the aisles on either side of me and I’m not liking what I think is about to happen. Alex takes the seat to my left, while Jay sits in the seat on my right. I believe this is what scientists would call a hell sandwich.

“Not to be THAT person,” I start. “But I believe Mr. Perino told you two NOT to sit by each other.”

“He said not to sit BESIDE each other,” Jay says. “We’re not. I’m sitting beside YOU Jordan. And Lexi just happens to be sitting on the other side of you.”

“Look at you finding a loophole!” I say with fake enthusiasm. “Let me guess, you’re also in this class because you didn’t apply yourself last year?”

“I had more important things to do last year, or shall I say more important PEOPLE to do.”

Oh fun, straight boy humor. Because that’s exactly what I asked for to make my day better today.

“You’re hilarious Jay,” I say sarcastically. “Alex is ever so lucky to have you.”

“Oh, I know she is,” Jay says.

I think he may have actually said that in a serious tone.

“I’m the luckiest girl in this school,” Alex says with a smile on her face.

Wait… is SHE being serious? I’m moving my head back and forth between the two and they are making lovey dovey eyes at each other. Oh.. they are being serious. Dear God, what have I gotten myself in to?

Wait, wait, what is happening? What are they doing? Why are they leaning over my desk? Oh no. Dear God no! They’re kissing, they are legit kissing right over my desk, right over ME. I think I may have just vomited a bit. Don’t worry I kept it in my mouth. I’d hate to be known as the girl who threw up in class.

_RING!_

They’re still going at it. Oh ew! Was that tongue?! Did I just witness Jay put his disgusting tongue into Alex’s mouth? When will this horrific madness end? Why isn’t anyone stopping them? And why am I still sitting in the seat, unmoved? It’s like I’m paralyzed. It’s like watching a disgusting, long, wet, car crash. I can’t move, mostly because they are blocking my way.

“Mr. Hogart, Miss Nuñez,” Mr. Perino calls out their names.”Maybe you two can disengage from each other’s mouths.”

Jay and Alex pull away from each other. They’re both wearing disgusting smug smiles on their faces.

“Didn’t I tell you two NOT to sit by each other?” he asks, annoyed.

“You said we can’t sit BESIDE each other sir,” Alex says. “Technically we’re not.”

“And technically you’re both in this class because you failed it last year. Maybe instead of making out you two could actually pay attention and pass this year."

Oh fuck. I hear a few “oohs” in the class and some people even snicker. Alex’s face drops and I can see red slowly creeping up Jay’s face.

“Well maybe if we had a better teacher,” Jay practically spits with venom.

The class quickly becomes quiet. Mr. Perino crosses his arms across his chest and scowls.

“Mr. Hogart, I’m sure Principal Raditch doesn’t want to see you in his office on the first day of school,” Mr. Perino says threateningly.

“I’m pretty sure Raditch is expecting to see me in his office today,” Jay responds.

Though I’ve only known Jay for about five minutes, he’s probably right. Something tells me Principal Raditch probably expects to see Jay in his office at least once a week. I bet Jay is one of those people that get sent to the office so often that they have a special chair or a special spot on the bench just for him.

“Go. Now,” Mr. Perino orders.

Jay rolls his eyes and scoffs. He picks up his book bag and walks to the door. What does he even carry in his book bag? There’s no way there’s books in there.

“See ya tomorrow losers,” he says as he leaves the room.

Mr. Perino practically slams the door behind Jay. He looks really angry right now. Either Jay really knows how to get under this guy’s skin or he possibly has anger issues. Either way, he probably shouldn’t be a teacher. But who am I to tell an adult on how to live their life?

“Welcome to Canadian History,” Mr. Perino says, acting as if the past two minutes didn’t happen. “This class is required to graduate which means half of you probably don’t want to be here but guess what, you are. I expect you to pay attention and at least pretend that you’re half interested in learning how your country came to be. There’s no talking in my class, no eating, no drinking, no gum chewing, and definitely no cheating. If I catch you cheating I will report you to the principal and then you will deal with the consequences. Do your reading every night because I do love to give pop quizzes. Are there any questions?”

Yes, what happened to you to make you such an angry little man?

“If you do have any questions but do not want to ask me you can always ask Alex,” Mr. Perino says. “This year is a repeat year for her.”

Oh wow! Did he really just say that, out loud? I look over at Alex and notice her clench her jaw. I can tell that she’s trying to keep herself from saying anything to this jackass teacher. It’s one thing to call out a student for doing something stupid and disrespectful; it’s another thing to call out a student for simply taking a class over. Alex didn’t even say anything! I have to wonder if this is fallout from what just happened to Jay. This isn’t ok. I raise my hand into the air.

Mr. Perino points at me. “Yes,” he says. “Your name?”

“Jordan Johnson sir,” I tell him. “And yes I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“My question is, what happened to you to make you such an angry little man?”

Yeah, I just asked that question. Everyone’s faces say they can’t believe it and some of my classmates are even making the oohing sound. Alex looks at me with a surprised look on her face. I see the anger from the Jay interaction coming back to Mr. Perino’s face.

“Would you like to join Mr. Hogart at Principal Raditch’s office?” he asks threateningly.

I shake my head. “No I’d rather not,” I tell him. “But sir, you asked if we had ANY questions and I just wanted to know why you’re angry. I mean if I were you I’d be excited. It’s a new school year which means you have new students that you can teach the wonderful subject of Canadian History to. I mean maybe to most students in this school history is boring but not to me. Oh no sir. As someone who just moved to Canada I’ve been looking forward to this class for months. I even did a little bit a research and found out that this country’s government is a constitutional monarchy and your version of independence day is July 1st though it’s not really an independence day it’s more of a celebration for when the provinces joined together to become one. Really fascinating stuff if you ask me.”

Cue the Johnson smile. Now cue the wheels turning in Mr. Perino’s head. See what I did there? Yeah I insulted the man, but then I just showed great appreciation for a class I’m sure very few people give a shit about. See teachers, especially high school teachers, want to feel that their subjects are being appreciated. And men especially like having their egos stroke. So when you insult a teacher you come back by saying how much you appreciate their subject, how excited you are to learn, throw in some random facts you quickly learned the night before, talk way more than necessary, and then you smile.

“Well Miss Johnson,” Mr. Perino clears his throat. “I’m glad you came to class prepared.” He turns to the blackboard and starts writing

See it works every time. I look over at Alex who still seems semi surprised. I shrug my shoulders as if it’s not a big deal. Honestly, I’m lucky it worked. Sometimes it doesn’t, sometimes my mouth gets me in trouble.

Mr. Perino starts passing out the class syllabus. “Every Friday we will have a test on the two chapters that you read that week,” he says.

The sound of teenage angst, and bitter groaning fills the classroom.

“This isn’t grades seven or eight. You’re in the years that matter now. It’s time to start preparing for university. You have four nights to read two chapters, that’s plenty of time to be prepared for the tests on Fridays. And let’s not forget about that pop quizzes I love to give.”

Mr. Perino walks to the front of the class and places the rest of the syllabi on his desk. He turns around crosses his arms, leans against his desk and looks at us. He has a smug teacher look on his face. He claps his hands.

“Now let’s learn about the Vikings,” he says.

Ugh, I have a feeling this class is going to drag on forever.

**After Class:**  
Am I alive? Or did I die from boredom and this is hell? Is hell high school? That last question is real and debatable. 

History class just ended and I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited in my life to each lunch. As soon as Mr. Perino started lecturing my brain just switched off. Who actually teaches a real lesson on day one of the new school year? The devil, that’s who! 

My fellow classmates and I are happily exiting the classroom and I think I just heard my stomach yell “FEED ME!” I feel like my stomach is currently eating itself right now.

Ahh! Someone grabs my arm and yanks me to a side hallway. Of course I’m once again up against lockers with Alex looking back at me.

“Ya know,” I say. “Ya really gotta stop doing this. People are starting to wonder.”

“What people?” Alex asks, confused.

I shrug. “I don’t know. The people.”

Alex rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Why did you do that?”

“Gonna need you to be a little more specific. I’ve done a lot of things.”

Alex crosses her arms. “Back there with Perino. Why did you talk to him like that? We’re not friends. I don’t need you or anyone else standing up for me, I can do that myself.”

“Who said I was standing up for you?” I ask. “It’s one thing to call students out. It’s another thing for a teacher to practically insult a student and their intelligence. I don’t like tyrants. Figured I’d bring him down a few pegs.”

Alex is just looking at me now, her face unreadable. I can’t tell if she’s thinking about how to respond or concentrating on masking her feelings.

“Ok, whatever,” she says and walks away.

“You’re welcome!” I yell after her.

You know what, I’m really starting to wonder about her. She’s like that movie with that weird kid. You know, the movie where it turns out all along the little boy sees dead people. I’m not saying Alex sees dead people, I mean… she might? I’m saying that she’s confusing and perplexing. Like you didn’t really know what was happening the whole time you were watching that movie so you had to watch it twice. THE 6TH SENSE! That’s the name of the movie! Ah-ha!

_Grrr.._

I look down at my tummy. Oh tummy, I know. Let’s get you some food.


End file.
